


Lost in the Storm

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic, F/M, PWP, sex in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma hated fighting with Fitz, it was almost like fighting with a part of herself. She went outside seeking a piece of home, and found someone else seeking something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/gifts).



Jemma slipped out into the tree-filled courtyard. It was pouring with rain, the fat drops sliding audibly through the trees and onto the thick green grass. She allowed herself to be lulled by the sound, by the scent of the wet flora all around her, the underlying sharpness of the wet cement.

She hated fighting with Fitz, it was almost like fighting with a part of herself. He was her best friend, and they got along so well most of the time, but this time... He was just being ridiculous! He resisted change so much, it was a wonder he'd even agreed to leave the Academy when they'd graduated.

Turning her face up to the sky, she closed her eyes, letting the cool drops soothe the frustration away. Soon, soon she would be cold, and she'd need to go inside for a warm shower and a change of dry clothes. For now, though, this was lovely. It was silly, but the rain always reminded her of home. When she was fighting with Fitz, she could use a little home.

She didn't know what made her open her eyes- it was almost like there was a weight on her shoulders, a prickle at the back of her neck. Her head came down as her eyelids fluttered up, and she saw a dark-haired man standing about three metres off, silently watching her. There was a pinched quality to his expression, as though he might not be having the best day, either.

He continued to stare at her. “I've always loved the rain,” she said, for some way to fill the silence between them. “Especially since I moved here.”

“Long way from home,” he replied, his voice slightly raspy, raised a little to be heard over the weather. It wasn't a question. He was wearing the black tactical outfit that she'd gotten used to seeing field operatives wear, with a harness of some sort strapped in an “x” shape across his chest.

“Yeah. And, I just had a fight with my best friend. It's silly to feel homesick, isn't it? I mean, I'm a grown woman, and _this_ is my home now...” Except it wasn't. Her last home had been the Academy, and now she was in limbo while they placed her. Which Fitz seemed to be very reluctant about.

“Not too silly,” he replied, and there was a look in his eyes that suggested he might know exactly what she was talking about.

“Are you having a bad day, too?”

A smirk came over his face and he took a few moments to think before answering the question. “The rain clears my head.”

There was a sudden rumble of thunder that made Jemma jump and squeak a little, and she gave the man an embarrassed smile. He was grinning, though, he seemed heartily amused by her reaction. “We should get inside if there's going to be lightning.” That would be an absolute shame, struck by lightning before she had a chance to go on her first field op.

“We're safe enough here.” He raised his hand, though, and beckoned to her as he moved over to the side of the building.

Walking over to join him, Jemma could see that the porous surface of the cement had darkened from the rain. She could see the droplets of water running down his temples, the rather impressive breadth of his biceps. He'd obviously put a lot of work into toning his anatomy, not that she was staring. That would be impolite.

The first flash of lightning lit up the sky, and Jemma jumped again, her eyes moving up to track it, too late it seemed. It was a few seconds before the thunder rolled through the boiling clouds.

“We're safe,” the man repeated, moving closer to her, his hand reaching out to settle on her hip. She found herself pressed back against the chill wall, looking up into dark eyes made darker by dilated pupils.

She wasn't sure if it was the charged atmosphere from the incoming storm or not, but she could feel herself reacting to him. She reached up, sliding her hands up his arms, over the slickness of his wet skin and onto the soaked fabric of his t-shirt. The next flash of lightning didn't startle her quite so much, even though the following thunder spoke of it being closer.

Her tongue came out to lick the rain away from her lips, and she saw his eyes follow the movement. She wanted to do something wild, impetuous, and  _fuck_ Fitz for never wanting anything to be different. Her fingers closed in the front of his shirt and she pulled him down towards her.

His lips were cold, but his tongue was almost startlingly warm as it invaded her mouth, claiming, conquering. She tilted her head slightly to the side, pressing herself against his front.

He seemed to take that as an invitation, his hands roaming over her body, seeming to be everywhere at once. They settled on her hips, though, and he pulled away from the kiss to turn her away from him. “Why aren't you wearing a skirt?” he asked in a low voice, his lips brushing her ear as he undid her blouse to her waist.

Jemma opened her mouth to answer, not that she knew what to say, but the roll of thunder that was close enough to shake the ground beneath them swallowed any answer she might have made.

He flicked open the front clasp to her bra, his hands instantly on her breasts. Her nipples were already stiff from a combination of the cold and what he was doing to her, and he plucked at them with slightly rough fingers until she was arching into his touch. A nip at the side of her ear had her letting out a low moan, lost to the rumbling in the clouds.

It wasn't long before he was undoing her trousers, pushing the sodden fabric of them and her knickers down to her ankles. One hand slid down over her backside and kept going, and she squeaked again as she felt exactly how cold his fingers were as they slid between her labia.

She was already wet with arousal, his fingers slipping as he pushed two of them over her clitoris. He rubbed back and forth a couple of times before sliding back and pushing roughly deep inside her. Her gasp was lost to the storm.

“Cold, Princess?” he asked, chuckling when she nodded. His arm locked around her waist as he fucked her with his fingers- there was no other word for the quick, deep strokes. Jemma gasped again as he twisted his wrist, changing the angle of his fingers inside her. Suddenly he was nudging against her g-spot with every thrust, and she was clutching at his arm, eyes shut as her head rested back against his shoulder. The pressure of the storm seemed to make everything feel more intense, somehow, and it wasn't long before she was squeezing his forearm in concert with the rocking motion of her hips.

He seemed to hear her low moan as her orgasm overtook her, he made a pleased-sounding noise in her ears. “Take your shoes and pants off,” he urged her in a low voice, and she did as he bade, legs shaking a little as she shifted her weight from one to the other.

He was gripping her hips again, turning her around, and somehow lifting her up against the wall. Her blouse caught against the wet cement as she wrapped her legs around his lean frame. He'd gotten his own trousers down just enough that when he shifted, his erection was sliding inside her, warming away the chill he'd left his fingers.

Hands underneath her supported her, and she gripped at the straps over his shoulders, closing her fists around them. The storm seethed on around them as he drove himself into her. Her clit nudged against his pelvis every time he surged forwards. She could see the flashes of lightning behind her closed eyelids, the thunder was almost constant now, close enough that she could feel it vibrating along her skin.

She could feel her pleasure rising again, could feel herself start to contract around him. He felt it too, by the way he shifted, his strokes deeper and faster. Jemma could feel the muscles under her hands tense, could feel his body drawing itself inwards until he jerked to a stop, his cock pulsing with his release.

She was so close, it was hard not to be a little disappointed as he withdrew suddenly, lowering her gently to the ground. His hand was back, though, his palm resting against her pelvis as he tapped a finger against her clit. Her eyes fluttered closed again, and so she was a little surprised when her nipple was drawn into the wet heat of his mouth. He sucked deeply, giving her just the barest edge of his teeth, and then she was gone.

He held her steady as she came back to herself, and she opened her eyes to see him smirking at her again. The storm was moving on, the thunder was getting further and further apart, the rain lighter.

She watched him pull his pants up and fasten them before reaching out to brush the backs of his fingers over her cheekbone. “Thanks, Princess.” 

And then he was gone, and she was standing alone in the rain with her trousers in a pool at her feet. Getting dressed again wasn't exactly easy, the wet fabric seemed to fight against her, but she managed.

She was shivering as she headed back inside, but she was smiling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> PWP!!! Written to procrastinate from writing plot. Damn you, plot!!


End file.
